


Stretch, Bend, Snap

by madsthenerdygirl



Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: And Got Angst All Over It, Angst and Humor, F/M, Fluff and Angst, I APOLOGIZE, Lucy and Flynn are Little Shits, M/M, Multi, Then I Sneezed, There's Only So Much a Man Can Take, This was supposed to be porn, Wyatt Logan's Bisexuality Crisis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-25
Updated: 2018-05-25
Packaged: 2019-05-13 14:26:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14750609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madsthenerdygirl/pseuds/madsthenerdygirl
Summary: Wyatt could excuse himself for being surprised by Lucy, but he really should have remembered: Flynn was an expert at guerrilla warfare.





	Stretch, Bend, Snap

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a prompt given to extasiswings, where Garcyatt has the “coming out/I didn’t mean to turn you on” trope. She said anyone could run with it so… I did.
> 
> Original prompt can be found here: http://extasiswings.tumblr.com/post/174133981671/man-i-just-want-to-send-you-so-many-of-these

He wasn’t really sure when it started.

But then, he wasn’t really sure when his gaze went from glancing at Flynn, to a second glance, to a heavy drag that he couldn’t seem to stop himself from. It was like with Lucy, finding himself halfway down the road before he’d even realized that he’d started down it.

Although at least this time, the person in question wasn’t presumed dead when the realization happened.

He tried not to give it a name. Tried not to think about it. It was bad enough that he longed for Lucy, longed for her like a missing limb even after he knew he’d blown any chance, after she had found comfort and security and all the things he hadn’t been able to give her in Flynn’s arms.

Bad enough he wanted one half of the couple. He didn’t need to start longing for the other half as well.

He knew… he knew, intellectually, that there was nothing wrong with any sexual orientation. But the words—gay, queer, every variation thereupon—when he tried to apply them to him, they carried the stink of hate that had permeated his father’s voice when he’d said those words.

He could remember it when he was a kid, watching _The Great Escape_ and _Papillon_ , transfixed by Steve McQueen, just staring at him, thinking—he couldn’t even remember, just fixated the way kids got—and his dad turning off the television growling, boys didn’t look at other boys that way.

He could remember when _Lord of the Rings_ had first come out and every one of his buddies had been obsessed with it, and they’d talked about who they liked best, who they wanted to be, and he’d said he wanted to be Aragorn because dropping the word ‘with’ hadn’t seemed like too much of a lie.

He remembered being in high school and falling head over heels for Jessica, head cheerleader, straight A student, beautiful golden-haired female Jess and thinking, _oh thank God_.

None of that prepared him for the hot curl of want that shot through him when Flynn did something like lick his lips.

Which he did a lot.

The bastard.

Maybe it had always been going on and he’d been too busy keeping the door on that closet shut and firmly locked, and so he definitely couldn’t say when it began, but he did know that at some point along the way, Lucy and Flynn became the biggest goddamn cockteases in the history of the word.

At first, it could easily be written down as just innocent scenarios that he was misinterpreting. Lucy licking a long stripe up her wrist, for example, when ice cream dripped onto it. That could totally just be him reading too much into it.

And when Flynn grabbed Wyatt by the hips to pull him back behind a wall during a mission instead of grabbing him, oh, anywhere else—that was just random, Flynn was grabbing the first body part he could get to, Wyatt was the one with the traitorous feelings about it.

He supposed that he probably should’ve started to figure it out when Flynn made a noise of disgust and grabbed him to fix his tie when they were in 1916.

Or when Lucy made him sit down so that she could fix his hair in 1835, her fingers dragging soft and leisurely against his scalp and making his eyelids flutter.

But then they upped the fucking ante and it definitely was not something he could write off as accidental or innocent anymore.

Like when Lucy came into the kitchen with this gigantic, long lollipop that she was sucking on.

“It’s called a Unicorn Pop,” she said, sucking it all the way down her throat and then pulling it back out again. “I loved these when I was a kid, Flynn got it for me as a present.”

She then made _eye contact with him_ while she licked a long stripe from the bottom to the tip.

Wyatt made a strangled noise and quickly excused himself.

And then there was the time that Wyatt was washing dishes and Flynn just had to press up against up against his back, hips dragging slowly against Wyatt’s ass as he reached up to the top shelf.

“Sorry,” Flynn said, not sounding sorry in the slightest. “Had to get the sugar for cookies.”

Wyatt’s throat was so dry he couldn’t swallow.

And then there was the time that Lucy turned the tables on him and buckled him into the Lifeboat as he sat down, her hand dragging down from his chest to his goddamn _inseam_ as she pulled away, resting her hand on his knee for a moment before settling back into her own seat.

Or when he walked into the bathroom—which had no chair in front of it, let the record show—to find Flynn in nothing but a towel hanging _very_ low on his hips, water droplets still sliding down his back and chest as he finished shaving.

Wyatt could feel his pants going tight and just managed to croak out a “sorry” before backing out as fast as he could.

It was like the two of them had gotten together and decided to plan Operation: Give Wyatt a Heart Attack. Or something. He was starting to suspect that Rufus and Jiya were in on it too, given how they seemed to mysteriously find somewhere else to be now whenever Wyatt was somewhere and Lucy or Flynn—or, God help him, both—entered the room.

He tried to shove the thoughts down, really he did, but it was impossible with those two all but parading past him with signs saying _we are very attractive people haven’t you noticed_.

Would it be so bad? The voice in his head whispered, the one that sounded like Jess. Would it be so bad if you gave in? If you told them?

But then there would be moments like when he walked in to find Flynn on the couch, Lucy lying with her head in his lap, Flynn absentmindedly stroking his fingers through her hair while they watched _It Happened One Night_.

Moments like that, Wyatt just swallowed down the lump in his throat and backed out quietly.

He thought he heard one of them softly call his name but he was pretty sure that was just his hopeful imagination.

Things finally came to a head during a mission to the 1930s. They ended up having to split up—Rufus and Lucy snuck back to the Lifeboat while Flynn and Wyatt distracted the local police, leading them on a merry chase until Flynn yanked Wyatt into a goddamn shipping crate.

To say there was no room was an understatement. They were pressed together, Flynn’s leg dangerously close to sliding between Wyatt’s, Wyatt staring straight at the hollow of Flynn’s neck as Flynn carefully peered his head out to see if they’d lost their pursuers.

Flynn shifted his weight, which shoved his leg more firmly between Wyatt’s.

Wyatt might have made a sound that could, if one was so inclined, be called a squeak.

Not that he was calling it that.

Flynn shifted in surprise but that just made his knee slide up higher and oh holy fuck in two seconds he was gonna realize—

“Could you _stop moving_?” Wyatt grit out.

“I’m just trying to get a better angle,” Flynn replied, his voice vibrating in his chest and Wyatt could feel it, could feel it because their chests were pressed together and Flynn’s knee was right where he could feel the tantalizing brush against his cock and he couldn’t fucking _breathe—_

“Oh,” Flynn said. Wyatt couldn’t see his face but he sure could hear the smirk in his voice. “I see.”

Wyatt would have said something except he was too embarrassed to form words.

“Sorry about that,” Flynn added. “Didn’t mean to turn you on.”

“Like hell you didn’t,” Wyatt muttered.

“What was that?”

“Nothing, just—are they gone yet?”

He prayed that was the end of it but then—oh, then—Flynn must have said something to Lucy because once they got out of the Lifeboat back in the bunker and everyone scattered, Lucy slid up to him and linked her arm through his and said,

“I heard you and Flynn had an interesting time of it.”

Wyatt prayed that just maybe God would finally prove his existence and strike him with lightning to put him out of his misery. “Um, yeah, you could say that.”

“Something you want to talk about?”

Wyatt shook his head, pulling away. “Nope, nothing, it was—”

Lucy huffed. “How stupid do you think we are, Wyatt?”

He turned and looked at her. Lucy’s expression gentled, and she intertwined their fingers. “Wyatt…” She smiled softly. “You’re the one who has to take the final step.”

She left him standing there, rooted to the spot.

So no, he didn’t know when it began, although he did know when he was in over his head, and now he was standing in front of the mirror. Trying.

Deep breath. Look at his reflection.

“Lucy.”

His voice failed him. He tried again.

“Lucy. Flynn. Can I talk to you guys?”

His heart was beating like a jackhammer and he wasn’t even in front of them. He looked down at the sink, where his hands were gripping the edges like a lifeline.

“I’m bi,” he mouthed the words to himself. Even without any sound to them, just forming the shape of them with his lips made it feel like something inside of him was being ripped open, made raw. _I’m bi. I’m bi. I’m bi._

He looked back up at his reflection. “Hey. So. I realized that I’m…” He swallowed.

_I’m bisexual. I want both of you. I love both of you._

“I’m bisexual.”

The words were barely a whisper but it was like something precious had finally, finally flown free, a knot untying and releasing all the tension he’d been holding in his chest his entire life. Tension he’d grown so used to he had forgotten that it was there.

He made eye contact with himself in the mirror. Held it.

“Lucy, Flynn, can I talk to you to for a second? I’m—I’ve realized that I—I’m bi. And I want to be with both of you. I. I love. Both of you. And if you want me I…” He swallowed. He didn’t know what he could promise. What he could give them that they didn’t already have. “I’m yours. If you’ll have me.”

Someone cleared their throat and he jumped, turning.

Flynn was leaning against the doorway, arms folded, like this was a GQ photoshoot or something. Lucy was standing with her arms behind her clutching the door handle, head tilted, a soft smile on her face.

“There wasn’t a chair in front of the door,” she said, but Wyatt saw right through that lie.

He felt an odd surge of relief that he didn’t have to try saying it all over again. That they’d heard and it was already over with.

The corner of Flynn’s mouth quirked upward. “We already had you. You just had to realize it.”

Lucy held her hand out.

And Wyatt took it.


End file.
